


Expectations vs. Reality

by timkons, tiniblu



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Art, BoKuroo Week, BoKuroo Week 2018, Canon Compliant, Collaboration, Digital Art, Dreams vs. Reality, Fantasy Fulfillment, Fluff, Friendship/Love, M/M, Memes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-18 01:11:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14201778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timkons/pseuds/timkons, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiniblu/pseuds/tiniblu
Summary: Expectation: holding hands with his best (boy)friend and stealing sweet kisses beneath a shared blanket.Reality: pining for said friend and holding in every urge to confess how much he wants to snuggle the breath out of Bokuto.Kuroo groans and drags both hands down his face. His life is one giant meme.





	Expectations vs. Reality

**Author's Note:**

> This is a collab entry for Bokuroo Week 2018's day three prompt: fantasy! You can follow [Blu's art](https://tiniblu.tumblr.com/) and [Vic's small writings](https://90stimkon.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr. 
> 
> You can reblog the work in four pieces on Tumblr: [part one](https://90stimkon.tumblr.com/post/172564372873/expectations-vs-reality), [part two](https://tiniblu.tumblr.com/post/172564454756/expectation-holding-hands-with-his-best), [part three](https://90stimkon.tumblr.com/post/172564587278/expectations-vs-reality-cont), [part four](https://tiniblu.tumblr.com/post/172564606776/expectation-his-beefy-best-friend-who-hes-been).

Kuroo slides his fingertips between Bokuto’s and whispers his name. The breath shared between them ghosts off Kuroo’s lips, the soft tickle making him shiver against the perfect, warm chest muscles when Bokuto scoops Kuroo into a hug. Bokuto dips, and Kuroo lets him. It’s the kind of push-and-pull moment that leads into the perfect kiss, the kind you see in movies, and that must be why Bokuto completely ruins it.

Bokuto laughs into Kuroo’s mouth, all sweet smiles and hot breath, when he should be parting his lips against Kuroo’s. That’s quite alright because Kuroo laughs too, and then he’s cupping Bokuto’s cheek and piecing their lips together like they should have from the start.

“Mm,” Bokuto hums, his entire chest vibrating so deeply that Kuroo feels the purr of it strum into his own body. There’s just a slip of tongue when Bokuto licks his lips, an accidental moment so teasing that Kuroo feels himself groan into the kiss. Bokuto must feel it too, because he grips Kuroo’s hipbones with both palms, holding him in place like he’s afraid Kuroo will disappear if Bokuto doesn’t squeeze him tight.

Kuroo slants his face and closes his eyes, focusing only on the soft patter of lips and the occasional brush of teeth. In moments like this, the insecurity melts away. The nose he’s certain is too long when he looks at it in the mirror bumps against Bokuto’s perfectly, and he can’t imagine his giraffe neck any other way than just long enough for Bokuto to cradle it in his hand and play with the short hairs on the back of his neck. Sometimes an off-center kiss brushes against patchy skin, and Kuroo wonders if Bokuto’s insecure about shaving too.

Kuroo’s thinking, focused on how his two front teeth must be longer than the rest of his mouth because it they keep catching Bokuto’s bottom lip whenever they kiss, when Bokuto starts with the laughing again. Kuroo frowns, but Bokuto cups his jaw and continues to kiss him, bubbles of laughter spilling into and in between each kiss.

Kuroo’s never been the one that can simply exist with actions, though. He tugs at Bokuto’s wrists and pulls away just enough that with every word, his lips graze against Bokuto’s teeth. “What’s so funny?”

“Hm?” Bokuto chases his lips for a moment longer, until he opens his eyes just enough to recognize Kuroo. “Just ‘cause you taste good.”

“Really?” Kuroo asks, smiling so hard he feels Bokuto’s cheeks against his dimples. “Because you taste like chips.”

“Hey!” Bokuto yelps back, pushing on Kuroo’s chest for leverage. Kuroo clings as they fall backwards, a shout equal parts surprised and giddy shared between them. The bag of chips they shared crinkles as they tumble down, and Kuroo feels the empty bag rumple against his back.

They both still at the new position, Bokuto’s too-warm palms still planted on Kuroo’s chest and Kuroo’s knee still loosely raised between Bokuto’s thighs. Kuroo blushes thicker and thicker as his chest begins to swell with a feeling that’s warm and weightless. This, he knows, Bokuto feels too, because Bokuto’s smile is a full bodied one. His physical smile is a small, tentative thing, but his eyelashes flicker to match the demure blush sitting high on his cheeks and his fingertips shyly curl against Kuroo’s chest.

Kuroo brushes away the few stray hairs that fell into Bokuto’s face, and he tilts Bokuto’s chin up with just his knuckles. “Hey, Bokuto?”

Bokuto’s eyes snap to Kuroo’s at the sound of his name, like a reflex, even though he swallows hard enough that Kuroo feels the up and down bob of his throat. “Hm?”

“You’re lucky I like the taste of chips,” Kuroo whispers, right before leaning in to continue where they left off.

“Hey, Kuroo,” Bokuto calls out, and Kuroo’s gaze refocuses just in time to watch Bokuto roll onto his side and face him. “You hear what I said?”

Kuroo stiffens, and the smile that looks oh so carefree is actually forced. His cheeks were as red as they were in his fantasy, but there’s nothing at all romantic about their bro night in. He was here, in his room, paging through volleyball magazines, and not in the warm embrace of the Bokuto in his dreams. “Yeah, the captain of that girls’ volleyball team is pretty cute.”

“I said that ten minutes ago! You totally spaced out on me!” Bokuto wails, but he’s grinning where Kuroo expects a frown. Kuroo guesses he’s amused, not offended, and the way Bokuto flicks Kuroo’s forehead signals as much.

“I was just thinking,” Kuroo says a bit defensively, even though he doesn’t have reason to be. He frowns and begins picking at the frayed threads of the blanket they’re sharing, wishing his fingers were slipping between Bokuto’s instead of the scratchy fabric.

“You’ve been doing a lot of that lately,” Bokuto playfully accuses, and he’s not wrong. There used to be a time that Bokuto would point something like that out while pouting, clearly feeling ignored, but this time he scoots a little bit closer, even tilting his body over Kuroo’s so that it blocks the overhead light. Bokuto pets the spot he flicked earlier, brushing a few of Kuroo’s messy bangs out of Kuroo’s eyes and circling his thumb over Kuroo’s left eyebrow.

Kuroo breathes in and breathes out, letting the fantasy of pulling at collar of Bokuto’s shirt until they’re pressed chest-to-chest materialize and fade. It’s not helping that Bokuto’s hands are so soft, or that he looks this good haloed by Kuroo’s dim, bedroom lights. He rolls onto his side and away from Bokuto, trying to keep his blush secret. “I have a lot on my mind!”

Such aversion tactics have never work on Bokuto, and now is no exception. Bokuto flops onto his back and rolls into Kuroo’s view, still grinning smugly as Kuroo sips on the bottle of water he tossed aside earlier. “Wow, you’re _so_ deep.”

The blush Kuroo’s trying to hide is in full view as his lips curl around the ridges that tell him Bokuto drank from this bottle and chewed on the rim. It’s an indirect kiss, his brain tells him. Kuroo chokes on the water but plays it off as a shrug, capping the bottle and pushing it away again. “What can I say? I’m a deep man.”

“You are,” Bokuto agrees. Kuroo won’t admit it, but he misses some of their banter. It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy having Bokuto in his corner, but it was easier to discredit the butterflies in his stomach when Bokuto wasn’t holding his gaze and smiling like Kuroo is something precious and wondrous.

“Why thanks,” Kuroo says sarcastically. If Bokuto won’t joke around, at least he can. He’s not sure if he’s grateful or not as Bokuto’s smile melts into one of his more common, comfortable smirks, and he shakes his head fondly. Even though that reaction is what Kuroo wanted, the butterflies refuse to settle.

 _“Uh huh,”_ Bokuto grunts with a roll of his eyes.

Smirking back and feeling a bit more like the them they used to be, Kuroo settles on his elbows. He knows he’s only torturing himself with this intimacy, but it’s nice, sharing a breath’s distance and a conspiratory smirk with Bokuto. He’s about to crack a joke or say something to provoke Bokuto or share a fact he learned in chemistry that will make Bokuto’s eyes light up and his head cock in that owlish way Kuroo finds so adorable when Bokuto does _that_.

And by _that_ , Kuroo means Bokuto reaches for Kuroo’s water bottle, uncaps it, and drinks straight from it, mindlessly chewing on the rim before Bokuto copies Kuroo, tossing it over his shoulder haphazardly.

It’s a little choked out when Kuroo asks, “so what were you saying?”

“Oh!” Bokuto smiles so broadly that his dimples show and he crowds a little closer to Kuroo. “It was about that volleyball team!”

“So I was right earlier!” Kuroo attempts to punch Bokuto playfully, but Bokuto catches his wrist and tugs Kuroo against him, into light wrestling. They shuffle for a bit until they’re both on their sides, facing each other a bit breathlessly.

“You’re weren’t!” Bokuto frowns, not in that wobbly-lipped way whenever Kuroo shrugs Bokuto off his shoulder because it makes Kuroo get crazy ideas like leaning into Bokuto and kissing him crazy, but in that cute, melodramatic way Kuroo dreams about at night. “I was saying that the leader isn’t as cute as that tall middle blocker, and she’s not as cute as you, so she’s not cute at all!”

“Oya?” Cute. Bokuto thinks he’s cute. And has his arm draped loosely over his hip. And is currently bumping the tip of his nose against Kuroo’s. And blushing and biting his bottom lip like he wants to kiss Kuroo as much as Kuroo wants to kiss him. _“Oya.”_

__


End file.
